Page 27

“I’m fine.” His voice is rough, like he needs sleep. “Got anything stronger than tea?”

I grab the whiskey bottle from the cabinet and pour him a glass. “Here.”

He takes it, our fingers brushing for a second. That old familiar jolt. He downs it in one go, grimacing as it hits.

“Liam Bastian going missing is gonna be a problem.” He puts down the glass. “A big fucking problem.”

“No shit.” I pour myself a drink, too. My nerves need it. “Viktor’s gonna tear this island apart looking for his brother.”

“And when he doesn’t find him?” Damiano’s eyes look almost black with worry. “We’re fucked, Flint. All of us.”

“We stick to the story, and we’ll be fine.” I lean against the counter, trying to look more chill about this than I feel. “Liam got wasted at the party, hit on some chicks, then bounced. Nobody knows where he went. End of story.”

“Viktor won’t buy that. He knows his brother too well.”

“That’s exactly why it works.” I take a swig of whiskey, letting it burn all the way down. “Everyone knows Liam’s a creep who preys on women. Him disappearing after a party full of drunk girls? Makes perfect sense. Maybe he found some tourist to harass. Maybe he fell off the dock. Maybe he’s sleeping it off in someone’s bed.”

Damiano runs his hand through his wet hair and pushes it back from his face. I catch sight of that constellation tattoo on his wrist—tiny dots that mapout the stars from the night we first met. I watched him get that one.

“Viktor has connections with the worst people on this island,” he says, pacing around my small space. “The kind that make prison look like a fucking vacation. If he even thinks for a second we had something to do with his brother going missing...”

“He doesn’t know about Briar,” I point out. “He’s got no reason to connect her to any of this.”

“Unless someone saw her leave the party. Or saw us in the maze.” He stops pacing and looks right at me. “We weren’t exactly being discreet before all this went down.”

My face heats up remembering Damiano pinning me against the hedge wall, his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, his body hard against mine. That mix of anger and want that’s always been our thing.

“Nobody saw us,” I say, more confident than I actually am. “And even if they did, so what? Us hooking up in the maze isn’t exactly breaking news on this island.”

“It connects us to where his brother disappeared,” Damiano says, clearly frustrated. “Use your fucking head, Flint.”

“I am using my head,” I snap back. “And I’m saying we stick to the story. Liam left the party. Nobody knows where he went. Period.”

Damiano moves right into my space, close enough that I can smell my own soap on his skin. It’s messing with my head. “And what about Briar? Shekilled a man tonight. Self-defense or not, that changes a person.”

I glance over at her curled up on my bed, looking so small. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Maybe,” he admits, “but she’s also sick. And now she’s dealing with trauma on top of whatever’s already wrong with her.” His eyes catch mine, serious as hell. “We need to protect her, Flint. From Viktor, from this island, from herself, if we have to.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I will. We will.”

Just like that, we’re on the same team again. Whatever shit’s gone down between us, we’re both all in on keeping Briar safe.

Damiano nods and backs up, giving me room to breathe again. He rolls his shoulders, making all the tattoos shift with the muscles underneath. That’s when I notice a new one on his lower back—an intricate maze pattern done in black ink.

“When’d you get that one?” I nod toward it.

He glances back, knowing exactly which tattoo I mean. “Last year. Seemed fitting.”

“The Waters maze?”

He nods. “I redesigned it. Made it mine.”

Damiano’s always been possessive about the gardens he works in, but this feels different. More personal.

“You’ve always been good at making shit grow,” I say. “Even on this fucked-up island.”

A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “Noteverything. Some things I’ve been particularly good at destroying.”